Horoscope
by AnonymousDH
Summary: She nods. "Yes Mister Aquarius," she looks at him now. "It said you won't get lucky." [DARVEY]


**Hi everyone, this is all AlternateShadesOfBlue's fault as her last fic inspired this idea... it's honestly just smut and M-rated for a reason.. but I had to write this down. So enjoy? And let me know what you think.**

* * *

 **Horoscope.**

"Babe?"

He lets out a deep breath, pushing the door shut behind him with his elbow. Hand running over his face to remove some droplets of sweat from his run this Saturday morning. He turns to look to his right now, gazing down the hallway at the lack of a response. He mutters the word again, louder this time in case she'd fallen back asleep.

He crosses his apartment, making a bee-line from the kitchen to his bedroom. He stalls in the door opening, a frown growing on his face when he finds the spot empty. He glances to the right then, wondering if she's in the shower but the sound of water clattering down is absent, just like the sight of his favourite redhead.

He sighs now, unsure. Figures she'd have left him a message. He instinctively reaches for the pocket of his pants but quickly realises he didn't bring his phone on his run. Walking down to the nightstand on his side of the bed he spots a note now.

 _Forgot I had a yoga class this morning – X_

He shakes his head, a soft laugh escaping his lips while he moves further down the room. Kicking his running shoes to the cabinet on the side, he pulls his shirt over his head and heads to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Changing into a clean shirt and sweatpants, his bare feet pad over the wooden floor back to the living room in hopes to see her there. He knows the chances are slim, she would have joined him in the shower if she had been there. He lingers on that thought for a moment, swallows at the realisation this is the first time since they've gotten together that their weekend ritual has been interrupted.

He consoles his thoughts with a cup of coffee, adding two drops of vanilla to the cup. A soft hum of appreciation leaving his lips after the first sip, he drops down on the couch. Settling in the corner and stretching his legs to let them rest on the coffee table, deciding to kill the time waiting for her return by watching the news.

She turns the lock, using her own new key. She told him he was being silly but he insisted on getting a new one made, even threatened he'd change all the locks if she wouldn't except it. Pushing the door open with her shoulder, she turns on her spot and closes the door again. She hears the TV in the background and she calls out a greeting, dropping her yoga mat and bag in the hallway.

He turns his head to the left at the sound of her voice, his lips automatically curling up when he catches a glimpse of her red hair. 'Hey."

She tiptoes through the room. Smiles at him the moment her eyes meet his, she moves closer bringing her right hand behind her head. She pulls on the elastic band and undoes the ponytail, letting her hair cascade freely down her shoulder.

"Sorry. I forgot I promised Rach." She waves her hand through the air, letting the hair band slip around her wrist and she takes the last two steps towards the couch. "How was your run?" she asks now, letting her left hand slide over his arm that rested on the armrest.

He tilts his head ever so slightly, looking up at her with a smile. "Good."

She smiles at that, rocks back and forth on her spot and leans forward at last. Her lips brushing over his in a quick kiss, greeting him properly at last. She pulls back slowly, the soft sigh leaving his lips making her grin and she brings her hand to his head. Letting her fingers slide through his hair.

She notices it's still damp and she hesitates for a moment. Wants to say something about him already having showered because they always did that together after he came back for a run, but it's her own fault for forgetting this meeting and it's already an hour after he'd normally get back. Instead, she just messes up his hair even more.

He reaches for her hand with his own, his digits slipping between hers. He crooks his head, signalling for her to come closer. "Come here."

She squeezes his hand but doesn't give in. "I need to shower."

He shakes his head, his gaze meeting hers. Pleading.

She let out a laugh, tilts her head to the side. Just watching him for a moment, wondering if he's serious. "I'm a mess."

He shrugs once, adds an answer in a whisper. "I don't care." But he realises he's losing the little debate when her fingers slip from his.

"I'll just jump into the shower for two seconds," she reasons, flashing him her best smile. "And then I'm all yours." The words sound more suggestive than she meant them and she quickly makes her way to his bedroom before he prevents her from going altogether. Kicking her shoes off next to his, she lifts her shirt over her head as she makes her way into the bathroom.

She half expected him to be right behind her now but she only finds herself in the reflection of the mirror. She swallows, doesn't allow herself to think too much of it and wiggles herself out of her sports bra, yoga pants, and panties.

She contemplates calling for him but doesn't, quickly stepping under the shower. She opens the tab and lets the warm water run over her frame. Her head tilting back, her eyes close for a moment. She shivers then, the water warm but she's still cold. Missing him here with her.

Cutting her shower short to barely a minute, she wraps a towel around her frame. Bringing her hair back up in a messy bun, she tiptoes back to the bedroom. Rummages through her drawer of his cabinet for some clothes to put on. Pulling out one of his white dress shirts she tosses it to his bed, now in search for a pair of panties. Lifting out a hipster thong he got her from Victoria's Secret the other day because she complained about not having enough clothing at his place.

She slips the black coloured lace on, turns in front of the drawer. Her hand reaching for the matching bra, she stuffs it back into the drawer and pushes it shut with her hips. Walking over to the bed to retrieve his dress shirt, she spots him looking over his shoulder in her direction. A knowing grin spreads over her face. "I thought you'd join me."

He swallows, taking her towel-clad body in. "I thought you'd join me," he repeats her words in a beat, hand tapping twice against the leather seating next to him.

She shakes her head and looks down, knows they're both talking about the same thing. She doesn't want to make it easy for him though. "I'll be right there," she announces, turning to face the bed again to reach for her top. She lets the towel drop to the floor, fully aware he's still looking at her and her smirk only grows knowing what the view will do to him.

She pulls the top over her head, tugging it down to her hips. She bends back down in order to reach for the towel at her feet and she hears him groan. She bites her tongue, holds back her comments and moves back up slowly only to disappear from his vision by bringing the towel back to the bathroom.

She catches him quickly redirecting his gaze to the television when she appears in the door opening once more. Softly chuckling she makes her way over to the left side of the couch, fingertips briefly trailing down his arm she stops near the coffee table and lifts his cup from the surface. "Another coffee?"

He hums, watches her walk off to his kitchen still wearing just the two pieces of clothing she teased him with before. He coughs once, tearing his gaze from her red manes to the news again and he shifts over the black leather couch to sit a little straighter.

She returns a few minutes later with a cup of coffee in either hand and instead of walking around the couch she stops right next to him. Holding out a cup in front of him she softly taps his legs with her knee, her head crooked as a silent comment.

He takes the cup from her hand, bringing his feet back to the ground allowing her to move past him. It only turns into an even bigger tease as she walks by in front of him, turning ever so slightly to give him a view of her behind. "What's the news?' she asks then, bringing her left leg up as she sits down next to him on the couch.

"Huh," he mutters, brows knit together. "Uhm.."

She smirks, wets her lips as she watches him come up with an answer. "The news," she repeats, at last, redirecting her attention on the cup of coffee in her hands.

He swallows watches her take a sip and his brain is completely blank as he tries to come up with what's been shown on his television-screen at least twice before she returned home. "There was a…. and that ..bankrupt…" He can practically hear her laugh.

"Nothing important," he answers when he fully finds his voice, taking a sip from his coffee himself.

She smiles in victory and snuggles a bit closer. "I'll read in the paper later," she teases him, letting her shoulder lean against his chest as she takes another sip from her coffee.

He bites his tongue, knows her comment was based on his inability to answer. He can't let her win though, taking one last sip from his cup he places it on the table and leans back against the couch. Now bringing his right arm up to wrap around her. "You won't find that in the horoscope section."

She rolls her eyes, sighs once and focuses on the rest of her coffee. Slowly emptying the mug before it joins his on the coffee table. She snuggles back up to him but can't help but comment on his last remark. "They can be very accurate, okay?"

He laughs once, wraps his arm further around her frame as she leans against his chest. His fingers now stretching over her elbow, he likes this. The way they banter, the new things he's learned about her in the last six weeks. He knows she doesn't actually believe in this at all, likes to read it for fun. "Are they?"

She nods. "Yes Mister Aquarius," she looks at him now. "It said you won't get lucky."

He swallows once. The grin on her face too triumphant for his liking, but it's the way her hand rests on his thigh that he already knows her words are an empty thread and he decides to stay silent. Instead, he hands her the remote and lets her change the channel until she stops on some show.

Mere minutes have passed when the show is already not catching his attention anymore, he turns his head to the right. Watches the way she leans against his chest, the smile spread across her face and the way she laughs every now and then when he hears another scene come on. He lets his hand run up and down over her arm, glances at her hand on his thigh and he finds himself distracted by the knowledge of her outfit once more.

He shifts then, lifting his right arm up again. The movement instantly making her look up at him, her brows furrowing together in an unspoken question. "My shoulder," he mumbles, bringing the arm down between them, he rests his hand on her knee.

She brings her lips into a thin line, leans to the side to press a kiss against the shoulder she knows he busted in college before snuggling back up to his side. She looks down at his hand on her knee now, watches the way his thumb moves up and down in the same rhythm as his breathing and for a moment she can barely believe that after everything they got here. Happy together.

She bobs her head to the left, resting it against his arm again and she tries to redirect her focus on the show but deep down she's counting down the seconds till he'll try to prove her last words wrong. Try to engage in something close to their other Saturday morning ritual.

His hand slips up her thigh then and she grins knowingly. She doesn't look at him though or acknowledge his move, bites her tongue and focuses back on the television. That being something easier said than done as his fingers keep drawing random patterns, each time inching closer to the endgame.

He notices one of her fingers flex over his thigh, his gaze flickering in her direction. He watches her again, thinks her attention is on anything but the show playing on the screen. He smirks, trails his fingers up slower now and this time he watches her. Hears her breath hitch and observes her draw her bottom lip between her teeth.

The corner of his lips tug up further, he wants to say something but doesn't. Rather enjoys her stoic way of pretending she's unaffected by his advances, he knows better though. Hand now reaching the crease at her hip, feels the lace edge of her panties under his fingertips.

She feels her heart skip a beat, her eyelids flutter closed for a moment when a shiver runs down her spine and forms a warmth in the pit of her stomach. She slowly opens her eyes again, puts on her best poker face and glances in his direction.

She frowns the slightest, finds him clearly looking at the screen in front of them and she hopes he's biting his tongue cause suddenly she can't even stand the lack of his smirk. She shakes her head once, not giving in. It's a game and they both like to win, she presses her hand down on his thigh a little firmer, now looking at the screen again and she laughs along with the audio band in the background. Pretending to be fully engaged with the show.

He can't help but grin now, he knows he's driving her insane but it's only fair because of the show she gave him earlier. Parading around in front of his nose in mere his shirt and lace panties, he moves his right-hand again, now slipping over her skin between her thighs. He can feel the warmth radiating from her body, uses his pinky-finger to map out the black lace.

He hears her suck in a breath in that moment, feels her hips jerk up just a little in response. He continues his teasing, keeps his touches light and slow. Fingers moving up and down the fabric, feeling it getting more moist with every stroke.

Her body tenses up under his teasing ministrations, reigniting, more increasing, the desire she felt when she took a shower. She swallows, finds herself tugging up his shirt to place her hand against his stomach and she chastises herself for this move that clearly showed the effect he had on her.

He touches her then, pressing his thumb down on her still lace covered clit. It's just once but he catches her lips parting from the corner of his eye and the sight alone causes his hard-on to twitch. He counts to three in his head, slowly relieving the instant pressure by lifting his thumb again but it only increases her desire.

He returns to a long, slow and sensual caress, barely touching her but the shadow of his fingers ghosting over her entrance enough to make her hips buck ever so slightly against the palm of his hand. He wets his own lip, doesn't dare to fully look at her afraid it won't be her but himself ending the game before it even started and he has every intention of making it last.

He slips his hand under the black lace now, his fingertips finally meeting her flushed skin without obstruction at last. Letting his hand slide down, he spreads his fingers being extra careful to miss that one spot he touched last now on purpose, focusing on her folds instead. Fingers slipping through her wetness, up and down. Again and again, giving the illusion of finally letting a finger slip inside her heat without actually doing so.

She can't focus on the teasing patterns she drew over his lower abdomen anymore, has to close her eyes and she bites back a moan. Her hips pushing up way to willingly in need for more contact, any type of friction but every move on her half is met by an even slower and more torturous stroke from him.

He hears a groan and if he has to be one hundred percent honest he isn't entirely sure if it's hers. She's more than ready to have him and it takes every fiber in his being to not just have his way with her and bury his erection inside of her just like his finger is at this very moment. That even a move that caught him off guard and the hiss that leaves her lips covers his own gulp.

He can't help but insert another finger on a second move, feeling her grind against the palm of her hand. He curls his two fingers now, hitting the bundle of nerves and a load moan fills the space between them. He glances to the right, catches her biting her own lip. He thinks she looks so beautiful when she's close and if it wasn't for her teasing parade he would give in. Instead, he slowly pulls out his fingers and returns to the lazy touches.

Repeating the process of getting her near off again, she groans loudly when his fingers slip out of her again and she can't take it anymore. Shoving her own hand down in an ungraceful movement, her fingers sliding over his and pressing them against her heat. "If you don't finish this right now, I'll do it myself."

His hand automatically stills and he looks at her now. His lips slowly parting as he takes in her words, threats and pleads not uncommon. She often told him to move, hurry up or threatened to withhold sex if he didn't get her off but never had she said this _. 'I'll do it myself.'_

"Harvey."

He catches himself blatantly staring at the redhead and he swallows slowly regaining his senses, he almost wonders is those few words from her were enough to get him over the edge and she hadn't even been touching him like he was touching her.

"Uh.." he swallows again, drawing his lips between his teeth. His mind raging over the options, continue the task at hand with a very likely promise of a returned favour or let her do as threatened with that promise being the furthest thing from reality. The former something he craves, the image of the latter incredibly hot and he finds himself mumbling those words in that very moment. "That would be hot."

She looks at him now an eyebrow quirked. "It would be hot if you continued this yes."

"No… I meant. I meant if you did that," he answers louder now, a grin spreading over his lips. "And I could uhm… watch."

She stares at him for a moment. Her eyes meeting his, the sparkle in them reminding her of that time he suggested the whipped cream ritual. She's not entirely sure if he's serious because they may have done a lot and technically they always had their eye on each other but they've never done _that._ "Watch," she repeats softly she notices his pupils dilate before he nods.

"Okay," she whispers then, tearing her gaze away from him she can barely believe she's saying this but she needs a release far too much to fully question it. She taps his hand then, urging him to remove it from her panties and she glances back up at him, almost waiting for a go-ahead signal.

He draws his hand back, watches her bite her lip, notices the muscle of her arm flex and a nervous chuckle escapes her. "Wait," he mutters now, his hand briefly falling on her thigh, she instantly pulls her hand away, now shifting over the couch to face him more. "Take them off."

The words are more an order than a question and his own hand pulls on the side to remove her soaked panties. She notices the wrinkle between his eyes, giving away how focused he is on this and it makes her chuckle. She helps him then, pushing the fabric down and lifting her hips from the black leather couch. She uses her elbows to crawl backward, creating a little bit more space between them and allowing him to drag the thong down her long legs.

Her back rests against a bunch of pillows and she looks down at her half naked body, her bottom fully exposed and in his reach but he merely sits on his end of the couch. His gaze fixated on her, he waits patiently. The look of complete awe on his face makes her let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and she adjusts her position again. Propping her left foot up to the backrest besides his shoulder, she drapes her right leg over his lap.

"Okay," she mumbles now, more to herself than to him, bringing both her hands down to her own stomach. She giggles again.

"God," he mutters already, leaning to the side to press a kiss against her calf.

"No, no, no," she coos. "No touching," she objects, motioning his head away with a flick of her wrist, she brings her hand down at last. Letting her fingers slip through her heat in the same way he'd done before.

He swallows thickly. A shot of blood rushing straight down to his groin. He doesn't even know where to look. Where to pay attention to. His gaze rests on her hand between her legs at first, the movements she makes and the pace she sets. He subconsciously wets his lips, almost being able to taste her.

His gaze moves slowly up and down along with her strokes, and back up now to her exposed stomach when he notices how his shirt is riled up, catching a glimpse of her underboob. He swallows, watches the way her chest rises up and down with every breath she takes, his attention now on the two small peaks starting to show through the fabric. A groan escapes him when he sees her move her own free hand up over her stomach and cup a breast, and he curses her no touching comment because he longs to feel her hardening nipples against the palm of his hand.

He focuses on her face now. The way her head is slightly tilted back, the way her eyelids flutter closed. How she bites down on her own lip. He hears and sees a pant escapes her lips and his gaze automatically flickers back down.

Needs to see what she does.

She runs her index finger in a slow circle around her most sensitive spot, flicking it once twice like his tongue would have done and she moans at the thought of his mouth on her. Her hips buck up, pressing against the base of her own hand when she slides her long fingers back inside of her and she imagines it to be his face. She drags her right foot down over his lap.

"Fuck, Donna," he hears himself breathing, not sure which of the things he witnessed caused him to say that the combination just too much to handle. He swallows, feels an ache deep down in his stomach and if it had been him teasing her he'd have gone all in by now but he asked and he holds back the urge to touch her as she demanded.

Once more he finds himself unable to focus on one thing, wants to remember every little thing her body does in this precise moment. The round shape her lips make when she moans, how her hand cups her own breast or the rhythm she maintains between her own legs, he counts the times she rubs herself.

She shatters then, a wave of pleasure running through her. It was all her, but his name rolls off her tongue and she lets her head fall back on the couch. Another loud pant escaping her lips, it's only now that she can truly feel his gaze burning her skin.

"Fucking fuck… That's hot…"

She tries to catch her breath, a nervous chuckle escapes her. She feels more exposed than ever before but at the same time, it's incredibly intimate, knowing he's the only person she'll ever do this for. "Fuck.. ing.. fuck…' she repeats his words, her chest still moving up and down as she rides down her orgasm.

She pries open one eye and sees him looking at her in full admiration. She reached the point of no return right next to him, but he's just as lost for words as she is.

"Hmmm," he mutters trailing his gaze down her body again, her legs now almost limp. One hand touching her own mouth, her other arm still stretched over her body, her hand still down there. He leans forward, hesitatingly reaches for her right-hand but figures her non-touching rule is gone by now. Hell, they'd done twelve years without touching, right now there was no way he wouldn't.

He lifts it from her centre then, studies the traces of her juices on her skin before taking her fingers into his mouth. Tasting her, he licks them clean. Letting each finger go with a plopping sound she laughs again and moves said hand to his face, caressing it while he leans in toward her. Now kissing the inside of her thigh, tongue hot against her still flushed skin, he moves his way down.

Another moan leaves her lips and she isn't entirely sure if it's an aftershock of the high she was still coming down from or the way his lips move over her skin. How his hot breath comes closer to where she longs it to be with every second that passes.

His left-hand moves over her other leg, spreading them a bit further and he adjusts his own position. He kisses her now, lips covering her entrance. Once slow. Tongue darting out in a long teasing stroke, tasting her until he reaches her engorged clit.

"Shit."

Her eyes fall shut again and she bites down on her lower lip when he sucks her into his mouth. Her hand automatically moves down to his head, fingers threading through his hair. Another moan escapes her and the sensation of his mouth working on her is almost too much, but she had other plans.

"Fuck, Harvey…' she pants now, almost giving in. It's when she feels him grin then her grip on his hair increases and she speaks now. "Harvey.. Wait."

He lifts his head in an instant, mouth still left agape. He licks his own lips unsure of what to do, he just looks at her. "You okay?"

She nods but uses her left- foot to create a little bit more distance between them anyway. She props herself up on her elbows. Moving forwards, she pushes her hands against his shoulder, bringing him back to a sitting position. She follows his lead, sits down on her knees next to him. Hands roaming his chest while she leans in.

She moves her right-hand to his face, turns his head to make him look at her and she closes the distance between them in a long and slow kiss. "Perfect," she whispers on his lips, giving him another quick peck. Her hand slips down his chest, she leaves small kisses over his cheek till she reaches his ear. "It's just there are more pressing matters at hand," she whispers, moving her hand over his prominent but still trapped erection. She softly takes his earlobe between her lips, tugging on it while her hand runs up and down over his groin.

"Jesus," he pants instantly, watching her hadn't left him unaffected but the sight was so amazing that he had forgotten about his own needs till now. "Donn.. please."

She grins now, sliding off the couch. Her hands on either thigh. "Please?" She quirks an eyebrow, must have the upper hand in every situation.

He growls, gives her a pointed look, doesn't want to answer. Doesn't want to beg but the way her hands move over his thighs is setting his skin on fire.

She doesn't wait for him to repeat the word, brings her hands up to the elastic waistband. Fingers trailing down the edge, feeling his muscles flex every time she touches his skin.

"Did you ever…"

He lets out a breath when she reaches the sides. He lifts his hips from the couch to help her pull both his sweatpants and boxers all the way down to his ankles. He removes it from his feet himself trying to shake it aside but his focus is on her. The way she looks at him, she hasn't even touched him yet. Her hands moving over his thigh, and finally one wraps around him. Another hiss leaves his lips before he continues his question.

"Do that and think of me?"

Her hand stills for a moment, her breath warm on him and all she can do is look up. She wants to say no, so badly but she can't. The blush creeping up her face already giving her answer away.

"Did you?" she counters the question instead, moving her hand again, from the base to the tip. Feels him twitch inside her grasp. Her gaze dropping back to his throbbing erection. She kisses the inside of his thigh now.

"Twelve years, Donna."

His answer not a definite yes but it's enough for her to know what he means.

"Good," she breathes. Turning her head to the right, her tongue darts out over him now and he bites down on his lip, holding back a moan, while his head drops back against the couch.

"Jesus.. Donna."

Her mouth is warm around him, teasing. Slow in the way she bobs her head up and down, taking him in whole. The way she moves her tongue almost torturous. One hand grips onto the couch, steadying himself. The other moves over her shoulder to her head, fingers threading in her hair but he lets her set the pace. Just needs to feel her under his fingertips. He feels her brings her lips down to the tip, fingers moving in soft caresses over his length. He thinks she's writing her name, her ministrations causing his breath to hitch.

"Babe… please… I can't ."

She lifts her gaze to meet his now, challenging almost at the use of that word. She has heard him say it before but it always takes her by surprise. Her mouth leaves him now, her tongue darting out to taste his pre-cum and he groans loudly, doing his best to regulate his breathing.

He glances down, seeing her grin and he shakes his head once. "Not .. not fair." He tries to argue when she uses his knees to push herself back up. She bites her lip, gives him that one look that always gets to him and she brings her hands to the shirt she's wearing. Quickly unbuttoning it, she doesn't have to motion for him to do remove his own. He scoots a bit to the middle of the couch, just waiting for her next move. She steps closer then, her hand holding onto him again making him moan against her skin, before she moves down, sinking down on him.

"Ooh god," she breathes, momentarily falling still as he fills her up, hitting all the right places.

"You…"

She opens her eyes, bringing her hands to his face. Caressing his cheeks, his eyebrow. Thumb running over the two moles on his face. She rolls her hips once slowly and asks. "You what?"

"I love you," he pants, pulling her head down for a kiss. Her lips part beneath hers and when his tongue slides into her mouth he can taste himself as she rides him now. The entire experience from him watching her, to her going down on him to this momentarily too much to make him move back.

"Do you?" she counters pressing herself up with a long kiss and slides back down his length. "Cause it looks like I'm doing everything myself," she jokes, grinding her hips against his once more.

It's then that he regains his senses, wrapping one arm around her as he meets her every move now. His hands ghosting over her body, paying attention to every area he hadn't touched that day yet, the palm of his hand finally brushing over the tip of her breast. He kisses her again, once, twice. Moves his kisses down to her neck, now letting his lips explore the rest of her.

"God… Harv," she moans when his mouth covers her nipple. She brings her hands to the back of his head, massages his skull in the same rhythm his tongue works on her. "I … Love you."

He smiles, now. Sucks the dark flesh into his mouth one more time before kissing her again, whispering the three little words in return. He glances up at her, his eyes locking with hers. "Close?"

She nods, pants against his mouth. "Faster... Please."

He kisses her again, hungrily. Tongue exploring her mouth, she now tastes of vanilla, coffee, and whipped cream. Scents he always associated with her. He brings his hands to her hips, pulling her further down on him as he keeps thrusting inside of her. He moves his thumbs over her flushed skin down, brushing over the one spot that started this entire thing.

Her breath hitches at the extra stimulation coming from his hand and he can feel her walls starting to clench around him. Her body spams when pleasure ripples through her, her head dropping to the crook of his neck and when his name leaves her lips in incoherent syllables, mixed with pure sounds of euphoria, he finds himself falling.

Hips bucking twice more as he comes hard.

He pants, tries to catch his breath and can merely look at the beautiful redhead on his lap, who is trying to regain control of her senses herself. He brings his hand to the small of her back, lets his hand move up and down to soothe her.

He brings his right hand to her face, brushing her hair aside. Fingers hooking under her chin, he guides her lips to his. The kiss is slow this time but maybe even filled with more love. Just them connecting even more.

She grins then, pulling back. Her head leaning against his, she breathes out slowly. "So…" she pauses, her fingertips moving down his cheek. "Watching me turns you on."

He nods. "Very much.'

She presses her lips against his again in lack of a better answer. "Okay," she whispers, at last, letting her head rest in the crook of his neck again.

He breathes out again, wrapping his arms around her as he holds her close. A thought crosses his mind and he laughs softly. "Guess my horoscope was wrong after all."

She chuckles now, doesn't need to open her eyes to know the grin that's spread across her face. Her words were a lie back then, but she can't let the best closer the city has ever seen win. Not with her.

"That was tomorrow's."

 **The end.**

 **ok if you made it to the end, I hope you enjoyed it. let me know.**


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